


Follow Me Home

by MonaBee



Series: a hug is two hearts pressed into one [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Otabek has a thing for Yuri's boyfriend shirt bless, Yuri is not a morning person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8950789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonaBee/pseuds/MonaBee
Summary: Yuri wakes up to the damp press of Otabek's mouth against his shoulder, and the familiar curl of his fingers at his waist.





	

The first shafts of sunlight were just peeking through the blinds, spilling fresh warmth across the sheets and licking at the edges of Yuri’s fingertips. He felt the damp press of Otabek’s lips against his shoulder, then the familiar curl of the brunet’s finger’s against his hip. Yuri shifted closer unconsciously, mind still only semi-lucid in the dawn across Almaty. Otabek hummed in appreciation, sending soft vibrations into the bare skin. Yuri shivered a little at the tickling sensation it brought.

Where Otabek was a morning person Yuri most certainly was not. No matter how five years grew into eight grew into ten, Yuri still took considerable, careful coaxing to slide out of bed in the mornings. Promises of sweets always a given. If there was anyone who could manage to extricate the blond from his beloved sheets with minimal fuss it was Otabek Altin.

But even Otabek found himself struggling to do more than admire his lover as the tendrils of sunlight stretched themselves across the windowsill, becoming more and more urgent in their signalling of the new day. The roughened pads of his fingers found the sharp jut of Yuri’s hipbone. Yuri shifted slightly at the touch, letting out a disgruntled noise. He didn’t want to wake up just yet.

“Yura, we’ll be late for practice,” Otabek whispered against the younger man’s ear, and Yuri shivered, curling himself up more as the first of the morning birds started up their calls.

“Mhmnm,” Yuri grumbled, turning himself over and entangling their legs even further. His hair left a white gold trail across their pillows, and glowed where the sunlight touched it. Otabek’s fingers twitched with the urge to run his hands through it, knowing how relaxed and context it made his boyfriend.

“If we don’t hurry the rink will become full, and you know full well how much you dislike skating with others around.”

“I don’t mind you,” Yuri replied indulgently. Where once his voice was higher, sweeter, roughened by his intense need for a ‘bad boy’ image it now rumbled deep in his chest, strong and vibrant. Otabek smiled with the slightest tilt of his lips.

“I still consider it a miracle,” He said, more emotion in his voice than anyone else would ever have the privilege of enjoying. Yuri pulled himself upwards just slightly, pressing a soft, open mouthed kiss to the stubbly bottom of Otabek’s jaw.

“Flatter will get you everywhere,” Yuri murmured, repeating his gesture at Otabek’s pulse. The muscles in the Kazakh’s jaw tightened, “A few more minutes?” He pleaded softly.

Otabek sighed, knowing full well how stubborn Yuri was about his ‘last few minutes’, and grumbled a fond, “Okay.”

He got up to mill about in his kitchen, boiling water and figuring out what to pack for breakfast at the rink, when a still sleepy Yuri pattered his way into the small space – one of Otabek’s oldest, most faded t-shirts draped haphazardly across his shoulders. Despite the bloom of Yuri’s immeasurable talent and the newly gravelly tone of his voice, Yuri had retained the lithe, flexible body of his youth. Otabek held down his hum of appreciation at the sight of the collar slipping down to expose Yuri’s collarbones.

“Mhm Beka, should I bring my jacket this morning? It seems warm enough for just a shirt,” Yuri asked, the rhythmic tap of his bare feet on the wood of Otabek’s kitchen floor leading him to encircle his arms around Otabek’s back briefly, before moving away.

“The weather changes often here, Yura, so I’d suggest you do,” Otabek managed, prying his eyes away from the messy, slumped form at the kitchen table. The honour of brushing Yuri’s hair would come during the first break of their morning practice, and later in the evening on their way home.

“Home,” Otabek whispered to himself. Yuri opened his eyes lazily, catlike green narrowing in on the brunet.

“Did you say something?” Yuri asked. Otabek smiled that barely there smile again, and poured the coffee.

“Nothing important, Yura,” He said, laying the blond’s mug on the table across from his matching one, and revelling in the quiet warmth in his chest the word ‘home’ gave him.

Yuri’s sneaky lilt of lips as he cradled his mug told Otabek he’d heard regardless.

“Mhm.”

**Author's Note:**

> **AUTHORS NOTE CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 12!!**
> 
> okay okay but YURIO WON my precious child I am so happy and proud of you you perfect baby. But... JJ I love you, but Otabek totally deserved that Bronze medal like wow okay.
> 
> My heart cannot take that this is over ;(


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